Tired Yang
by Njoror
Summary: After a long week, Yang returns home to a distraught Blake. Entirely Bumblebee fluff.


**So it struck me that I don't have any non-spicy pieces on this site, with the exception of the history lessons. This seems like a drastic oversight, and as per my civic duty towards the Bumblebee ship, I have attempted to increase the overall fluff content. This story has nothing to do with me getting back from an incredibly long week, opening Fanfiction, and wishing that I had someone like Blake. Although it would be convenient if that were the case.**

* * *

><p>Not many people would have seen that Yang was tired. The general stood with a rigidly straight back throughout the ceremony, almost forgetting to blink.<p>

But most people were not Blake, most people didn't know her through and through. Yang's stern face, narrow eyes, and straight back all indicated she was trying her darndest not to fall asleep right on the spot. Her eyes lacked their usual luster, instead peering out with a dull purple.

Still, Yang did not show any signs of weakness to those that did not know her, and her speech was brief and to the point-a quality people had come to expect from the blonde general. She didn't like speeches or press conferences, preferring galas and social events to talk to people one-on-one.

Blake knew how much Yang had been taxed the previous week. Problems had cropped up like wildfire, and Blake had been lucky to even catch sight of her blonde lover. Yang had been getting home close to three o'clock in the morning, only to leave again at four thirty. The most Blake got was a lingering warmth in her bed that indicated the blonde had been there.

On the night Yang hadn't even come home at all, Blake had to force herself not to cry. Her face was just wet from her shower. It wasn't that the black haired woman was needy, she just… _required_ a certain amount of contact with Yang. The woman who had stolen her heart as assuredly as Blake had hers.

One of Blake's favorite things to wake up to was the blonde's gaze on her face, as a hand ran through her hair, and hear those three words escape her lover's lips, the three words she would live her life by.

Luckily, the speeches and presentation didn't last much longer. Blake found Yang making excuses to a variety of high-ranking officials, most likely to avoid being sucked into staying any longer.

"But surely the people will wish to talk with their most esteemed general," said Admiral Ozpin, one of the few still left.

Blake stepped forward and placed her arms around Yang's waist protectively, giving the admiral an admonishing look. "I hope you aren't trying to steal Yang away from me, Admiral," she told him in a cool voice. To her delight, she could feel Yang loosen up just a little bit, though the blonde held enough of a height advantage that if she lent her head back it would be on top of Blake's, rather than on her shoulder.

Ozpin laughed at the display, and shook his head. "Of course not, madame," he demurred. "I doubt she would give you up, anyway." His observation was spot-on, of course. Yang loved Blake.

"I'm afraid," spoke up Yang, her soprano that had been so clear and crisp during her speech now soft and tired, "that I must excuse myself. It has been a pleasure, Admiral." Ozpin nodded in her direction before relinquishing his right to conversation and backing away, where he struck up a conversation with General Qrow.

"Take me home," whispered Yang desperately in Blake's ear. Blake nodded into her back, and immediately felt Yang lean against her. Not too much though, she knew that Blake was nowhere near strong enough to actually even carry part of Yang's weight. Before becoming a general, Yang had been quite the super-soldier, and still maintained her incredible strength.

As they walked towards Blake's car, she ran her hand up and down Yang's back, feeling the lingering tenseness there. That would not do.

There were few words exchanged in the car, both women preferring to wait until they were comfortably in each other's arms. And Blake was determined to make sure that Yang was indeed in her arms, for the entire night. It was an outrage that they had made her work for so long, every day, for a whole week.

Blake entered the house second, but moved less than a step before Yang pinned her against the now closed door. It wasn't like when she was normally pinned, with the fires of lust burning in Yang's eyes. Instead, the blonde just leaned against her, allowing their foreheads to press together.

Yang took a deep breath of Blake's hair, sighing comfortably. "I missed you," she whispered. Blake couldn't agree more. A desire had awakened in her at their proximity, but it was clear that Yang would not be able to sustain the energy needed for that.

Blake leaned up to kiss Yang, but when the blonde failed to respond adequately, she pulled away. It was not like Yang, who claimed that kissing Blake was one of her favorite activities. "You're exhausted," she told the blonde.

Yang nodded, her eyes closed. She seemed content to just sleep right there, with Blake against the door. "When is the last time you got a good night's sleep?" she asked.

Yang didn't open her eyes or move, but the idea of a shrug came across nevertheless. "Eight days, I suppose."

Blake would have exploded in anger if such an action wouldn't have disturbed the blonde leaning against her. "Eight days?" she whispered harshly. "What were you doing?"

Yang gave another invisible shrug, refusing to move. "I had an assignment in Forever Fall," she told Blake. "It was kind of off-the-record stuff."

Blake did some quick math. Forever Fall was five hours away, which meant… "You worked thirteen hours a day, and still traveled ten to sleep with me?" she asked, incredulous.

This time Yang did open her eyes, looking a little sheepish. "Well…" she started. "If I hadn't come back you'd have been sad, right?" Tears formed in the back of Blake's eyes, tears which Yang rose up a hand to gently brush away. "Hey… It's okay now, right Blake? I'm back."

Blake nodded, tears still flowing. "You'd didn't have to do that for me," she choked out. "Stop being so selfless, you need to think of your own health." But Yang's stroking hands and quiet murmurs that all would be well put her at ease, more than she would ever care to admit. Whatever force had allowed her to get Yang's attention, she would thank it eternally.

Taking a moment for her voice to level out again, she pushed softly against Yang. "You need rest, love," she said. Yang belatedly agreed, and let herself be guided to the sofa under Blake's touch. Once she was seated, all power left her muscles, allowing her body to simply drop where it was.

Rather than sitting in Yang's lap as she would have liked to do, Blake instead moved around the sofa, behind Yang. The blonde made a soft sound, which turned to a sigh as Blake's hands found her neck and began massaging.

Much as Blake loved how Yang could turn her to a quivering mess in bed, sometimes it was necessary to show love more than just there. Yang needed to relax, and Blake could provide the outlet for her.

Slowly, Yang's muscles began un-tensing under Blake's skilled touch. The occasional sigh left her lips as Blake's hands found a new set of muscles to work on. After what seemed like too little time to Blake, she had reached the bottom of Yang's back. While sometimes her ministrations would continue on to there, now was not the time.

Feeling Blake's hands retract, Yang laid out on the couch. Blake looked at her and laughed. The general's face was the picture of exhaustion and compassion, only the latter being seen on any sort of common basis. "We should go upstairs, love," she informed Yang.

The blonde pulled a pillow under her head, seeming content to settle down there. "I can't make it upstairs," she admitted. "Stay with me down here?"

Blake laughed again, but this time it was just an outward embodiment of love. How could she say no to Yang? Turning off the living room light, she laid out on top of Yang. Delightedly she nuzzled into the blonde's neck when strong arms wrapped around her chest and pulled her closer. She could never get too close to Yang.

Before Blake was able to drift off to sleep, the phone rang, its piercing sound a shriek in the silent house.

Blake cursed. She suspected Yang would be raising an eyebrow at her, but she didn't care. Yang had _just_ left work less than an hour ago, and now they had the audacity to call again?

The general tried to push herself up, muttering that she "needed to answer that." Blake didn't give her the chance. Knowing how weak Yang was at the moment, Blake stopped her by simply applying pressure with one hand on Yang's shoulder. Sensing the futility of her struggle, Yang relented.

"And least see who it is," sighed Yang, settling back in.

Blake walked over in the dark, picking up the infernal machine. "Hello, Major Bronzewing here, may I speak with General Xiao Long?" came from the speaker.

"This is Blake Belladonna," Blake informed the receiver. She could hear a muffled curse from the other end; this was not the first time Blake had intercepted calls meant for Yang. "And you may not speak with General Xiao Long. She will be unavailable until…" Blake did some thinking. "Tuesday at the soonest."

"But it's Saturday!" exclaimed the major. "It can't possibly wait that long!"

"I don't care what it is, it can get in bloody line," Blake snapped. Deciding the conversation was over, she slammed the phone back in its jack, then unhooked it from the phone line. They would not be experiencing any more interruptions.

Blake found her way back to Yang by her chuckling. She would get an earful about this sometime next week, but for now, that didn't matter. All that mattered were the arms that wrapped around her, encasing her in a cocoon of love, one she never wished to leave.


End file.
